The Countess' Captive (The Fairytale Keeper Book 2) by Andrea Cefalo Read Free Book Online Page A

one.”
    “Not so bloody that it would spoil your appetite.”
    He jerks his head in Galadriel’s direction. “No, but it might spoil the lady’s.”
    “I think I can handle it,” she says, insulted.
    If it were indeed a gory tale, I doubt she could. I’ve made her retch before with little effort, but she was ill that morning from the near barrel of ale she’d consumed the night before.
    I look to Father for his approval.
    He shrugs, and I tell the story.
    I’m half–way through the tale before Galadriel’s eyelids bob. She struggles to maintain her posture, and I pause the tale to ask her if she is well. Father turns to her and places one hand on her back, the other on her hand. He whispers in her ear, and she whispers back before patting his hand and bidding us good night.
    I finish the tale, and at the end, Father laughs, but the cheer in his face quickly washes away, melting into sadness.
    I remind him of Mama.
    He swallows the grief hard, and though it pleases me to see her death still pains him, I hate to see him hurting so.
    “Did you like it, Papa?” I ask, and he returns to me, leaving the dark recesses of his guilt and mourning.
    “Yes, very good,” he says distantly.
    He coughs and orders another round of wine. I lose count of all the mugs, but with each one he grows more jovial, and I, more tired. We reminisce until my eyelids grow heavy, and we stumble to our beds.

30 March 1248

    I roll over toward the wall, more cautiously this morning, and pull the blankets over my head to keep the light, and hopefully the throbbing in my head, at bay.
    Wine. Damn wine.
    I lower the blankets, squinting open an eye to gauge the brightness and guess the time.
    I immediately regret it.
    Blinding is not a time of day. I draw the covers back up and roll away from the scorching light.
    Weren’t we supposed to leave today at dawn? So why didn’t we?
    My head throbs, and I groan. I rise, pushing the tangles of hair from my forehead and shielding my eyes from the bright morning sun. The coolness in the air feels good. I sigh and stretch. My eyes scan the room for my chainse and surcote, stopping on the mug sitting on the desk. A mug that had been there since the old physician left it for me yesterday.
    Then, I remember what I did last night.

    Yesterday afternoon, I poked my head into the tavern to make sure Father and Galadriel had not yet returned. It was empty. I made my way to the bar and sat on the stool. The pretty blond maid, who had brought my mug earlier, approached.
    “Oh, my head. It aches,” I said, exaggerating the pain.
    “Are the herbs not working yet?” she asked. “The physician you had is the best in the city. You must give the remedy more time.”
    “Of course, do you think I could get two mugs of wine for the night? I doubt I shall come down for supper and would hate to bother you twice,” I asked, and she complied.
    I nodded in appreciation and rushed to my room, locking the door behind me. I gulped down half the wine from one mug, and then mixed half the physician’s potion into the rest, filling it again.
    When the sun began its decent, I returned to the tavern, taking the mugs with me. I found an empty table—and sat the tainted mug before Galadriel’s seat.
    Galadriel, unsuspecting, drank the entire mug.
    Not long after her eyelids drooped, and she excused herself to bed.
    The physician said the potion caused sleep, so I enjoyed my time with Father. But now I wonder, was it poison?
    What if it killed her?
    I gave it to her.
    What if I killed her?
    I dart to the other side of the room, pressing my ear against the rough wooden wall between us, listening for several moments, but hearing nothing. I sniff for the rancid, sickly sweet stench of death, finding the sharp scent of manure and smoldering embers of last night’s fire thick in the air instead. Surely if she’d died someone would have come to tell me by now. I give up on eavesdropping and toss my surcote over my head. My thoughts